


The Night Visitor

by Cali_se



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 06:26:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19740079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cali_se/pseuds/Cali_se
Summary: It takes Will a moment or two to realise he's not alone.





	The Night Visitor

It takes Will a moment or two to realise he's not alone. The bed springs creak as another body eases its way down, the movement rocking him further awake. 

Then the half-dream becomes full on wakefulness as a hand squeezes his shoulder before moving down to settle at his waist - and then he's sure he isn't dreaming.  


The room is dark with just a hint of moonglow seeping through, but he doesn't need to see well to know that lips are nuzzling at his neck because, _oh god_ , he can feel them, just as he can feel the hand smoothing his hair. He shifts back, leaning into the solid form that is now cradling him. 

Not a word is exchanged as he turns in the embrace, wrapping his arms around his night visitor. He doesn't ask why, how... _what the fuck...?_ Somehow, he doesn't care. He just sinks headlong into the sensation of falling, of being caught and held, of...

This. 

This dangerous, thrilling, _beautiful_ thing: being utterly enveloped in the arms of the night and the heat of another man.

Emboldened, Will rolls on top. Dipping down first to kiss the curve of waiting lips, he sits up and pulls his tee off over his head. Hands come up to comb through his pillow-tousled hair as he undoes the shirt concealing his lover's body. He feels his way in the velvety darkness; the tips of his fingers catch chest hair as he unhooks each button in turn. 

There's no time to think as they fall into another embrace, closer than close, lips locked in a deep, probing kiss; there's no time to be logical, intellectual, or to let in doubt; this is pure instinct. 

Will reaches between them, seeking out the hand that's already stroking him to distraction, and clasps it with his own. A tiny shift is all it takes to move flesh against flesh. Then all there is is the ache, the primal need to come as desire spirals in on itself, creating radiating circles of pleasure that settle in the limbs and carry them home. Will presses his face into his lover's neck as his orgasm builds and peaks, and he stays there after the last pulsating waves have left him. For a few moments, as he catches his breath, embarrassment descends on him, but then he feels the press of lips against his hair as arms tighten further around him, and embarrassment is the last thing he feels as he falls asleep.

His night visitor is spirited away by the first light of morning. That he didn't linger seems appropriate somehow, it adds to the dream-like aesthetics of the occasion. Mystery and darkness suit this particular liaison perfectly. 

As Will rolls over on to his side and gets ready to rouse himself for a new day, he sees that something's been placed beside him on the bed. It's a key, and with it is a note written in that distinctive, elegant hand: _Perhaps a change of scene will evoke yet more pleasant dreams. Your move, I believe, Special Agent Graham._


End file.
